


Refractions

by spoilers



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: M/M, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Crush, teens talking past each other: the series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9053461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoilers/pseuds/spoilers
Summary: “You should take a good look while you can,” Seiji said, taking Natori by the shoulders so they were staring into each other’s eyes. “Once I take over, you won’t be able to see this one at all.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lady_peony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_peony/gifts).



> Set after Special Chapter 15: Undistorted World/ episode 5.8.

Children shouldn’t attend the meetings, they were told constantly, although the two of them were hardly children. The Natori name still prompted knowing smiles and whispers, but the community had started to grudgingly accept that he was entering the business, which he’d thought would quiet any objections to his presence at the exorcist assemblies. Still, even when he received invitations to the meetings, people would try to brush him off, tell him that it was dangerous for someone his age to get involved. The only thing that made it tolerable was that, even though everyone was fawning over him as stories of his success rocketed, Seiji received the same treatment.

No one had taken any serious steps to try to make them leave, so they both kept going, though they had a tendency to sneak off to a quiet balcony together whenever the lectures about what high school students shouldn’t do got irritating. Natori supposed they deserved some of them, once Seiji produced the bottle of champagne with a flourish.

“They would have noticed if the sake was missing,” he said cheerfully, as Natori twirled the thin neck of the glass in between his fingers. “It’s much more popular with the youkai. Besides, we need to celebrate.”

“Cheers.” Natori tossed his back, a little too quickly. It was stronger than he expected, and he felt the bubbles long after he’d swallowed, but there was a pleasant, warm feeling that he decided he liked. “What are we celebrating?”

“I’m going to be named the next clan head,” Seiji said, tilting his glass towards Natori with a small smile. Natori clinked their glasses together, which turned out to be much louder than he thought it would be; he shrunk down a little lower against the wall, in case the sound carried. Seiji laughed at him, and defensively, Natori took another sip.

“Is it official, then?”

“It’s inevitable,” Seiji said, which wasn’t the same thing, but Natori found that he believed him anyway. He had such a quiet confidence about everything, such a secure sense of his place in the world, that Natori couldn’t imagine it any other way.

“Congratulations,” he said, and he meant it. They drank through the champagne much faster than Natori expected, and it turned out that Seiji couldn’t hold his liquor at all. They both laughed about it, but the truth was that Natori’s head felt heavier than it should have, and they had to lean against each other for support.

“You should take a good look while you can,” Seiji said, taking Natori by the shoulders so they were staring into each other’s eyes. “Once I take over, you won’t be able to see this one at all.”

“Don’t say that,” Natori said, but found he couldn’t look away from it, once he brought it up. For a moment, they just looked at each other, and Natori started to wonder what it would be like, to wear an eyepatch for the rest of his life. He closed one eye, watched Seiji’s face shift to the right, and suddenly blurted out, “Can you even shoot a bow with one eye covered?”

“I don’t know,” Seiji said pensively, which must not have been true; Natori couldn’t imagine him pouring that much time into a weapon without considering what it would mean for his future, not when Seiji had wanted this for so long. Then Seiji covered his right eye with his hand, said, “I should start practicing now,” and they both cracked up again.

Seiji fumbled when reaching for his glass, which Natori thought was more likely to do with the alcohol than a problem of depth perception, but that didn’t stop him from ribbing him about it.

“Careful not to knock it over,” he said. “You better improve or you'll never drink anything again.”

“Oh?” Seiji said, and he abandoned his glass. “Why don’t you try it, Shuuichi?”

He clapped his hand clumsily over Natori’s glasses, the bridge pressing up hard against his nose.

“Hey—!”

“Now let’s see you knock over your drink,” Seiji said, with his little smile, and Natori had to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, the idea of sitting under the moonlight with Matoba Seiji’s hand on his face pushing his glasses askew. Seiji laughed with him, and his hand fell away.

Then he leaned in and brushed his lips against Natori’s. Natori froze, his glasses sliding down his nose.

After a moment, Seiji pulled back. “No?” he asked. He eyed Natori up and down as if he was assessing an exorcism technique, not trying to kiss him.

“What was that about?” Natori asked, pushing himself up on his knees. The alcohol rushed to his head as he moved, rooting him to the spot.

“Weren’t you curious? It seemed like something worth trying,” Seiji said. His face was slightly flushed, but it had to be the champagne; he spoke so casually, with no hint of embarrassment, and Natori was the one who had difficulty making eye contact.

“Seiji—”

Matoba stood quickly, unsteadily, and leaned against the railing to look out on the dense woods around them. “Never mind,” he said mildly. “It seems like the meeting is over. We should get going before someone’s shiki finds the bottle.”

Natori’s head swam, but he managed to get to his feet. He wanted to cross the balcony to Seiji, even though he knew he would fall if he took a step. Seiji’s hand had left a smudge on his glasses; he had to tug them off to look at him properly. 

After a moment, he said, “I won’t tell anyone.”

Seiji turned to him with that infuriating, dismissive smile. “Why would I care if you told anyone? You don’t know anyone to tell.”

He was right. Neither of them ever brought it up again. And the first time Natori saw Matoba after he became head of the clan, wearing the warded eyepatch like a crown, there was no trace left of the boy on the balcony.


End file.
